


Hello Honey I'm Home

by euromagpie



Category: The Flash (Comics)
Genre: M/M, but could be platonic i guess, intended as slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-05
Updated: 2015-02-05
Packaged: 2018-03-10 15:20:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3295214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/euromagpie/pseuds/euromagpie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James never did get to come back. Well, maybe this once.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hello Honey I'm Home

Hartley woke with a start in the middle of the night, the echoes of a mysterious falling object ringing in his ears. He lay perfectly still in his dark bedroom, pretending to sleep, while keeping an ear out for another noise. A loud squeak rang out as the door to his room was opened, quickly shushed (and really the shushes were louder than the noise had been in the first place). Hartley didn’t move as his mattress dipped.  
Out of the corner of his eye he saw a dark hand descending. Without warning he threw back the covers, pulled back a leg and kicked the intruder in the face. He heard a satisfying crunch as his heel broke bone.  
The potential-burglar landed on the floor with a loud cry that somehow managed to sound pitiful and indignant. Running for the door, Hartley punched the light-switch, whirling to face the figure on the floor who was now swearing quietly.  
He froze.  
From his position on the carpet, James looked up at his friend with a watery glare. He looked terrible; older, yes, but it had been several years since…  
It had been several years. Scars like tree-roots crawled up the side of his face, and a small puckered crater sat on his forehead where, where…  
And his hand…  
James was the first to break the silence.  
“You broke my nofe!” Came the muffled cry. Hartley blinked.  
“You startled me. Noise” He couldn’t seem to form longer sentences. A right hand came up to wipe the flowing blood out of his mouth.  
“Bit difficult climbing in’o ‘partment with one ‘and” He muttered.  
“I’ll go. Cloth” Hartley moved towards the ensuite as though sleep-walking. Mechanically he pulled a washcloth from a cupboard and ran it under cold water for a moment, before twiddling the tap closed. A glance in the mirror shocked him; he looked like he’d seen a ghost.  
A ghost. James is dead. James never did get to come back.  
He slapped himself. It hurt alright, but not enough to wake him up apparently. Hartley was about to try again, when a calloused hand grabbed his wrist.  
“Stop hitting yourself” James joked, although there was no smile on his face. His eyes looked almost blank, but for a small hint of weariness and, was that worry?  
He didn’t want to look at his eyes, his face, like this was James alive and well and not dead because of Hartley and he’d let go he’d paid his price _why was this still happening._  
Hartley laughed hysterically, staring at the tattered remains of a purple cape, still fastened to the shoulders of his striped costume. The colour had faded, and the stitches were coming loose, unravelling. He thought that cape was a good representation of his current state.  
“Piper, Pipes. Hart” James’ arms came around Hartley’s shoulders, pulling him into a tight hug, like James had been missing him as fiercely as Hartley had, had felt the phantom cold of metal cuffs long after the abrasions had healed, as though he had felt every mile Hartley had dragged his corpse through the fierce desert. He clung to him like a trapeze artist did the next bars, like he was all that kept James from plunging to the ground again.  
“I’ve missed you Hart”.


End file.
